


A Cupid's Hart

by von_gelmini



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Cupid!Eggsy, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mythology - Freeform, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5967967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gelmini/pseuds/von_gelmini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There isn’t just <i>one</i> Cupid. </p><p>Eggsy doesn’t know how many others there are, but there are dozens in London alone. The Cupids Union long ago divided the city by postcode. Everyone kept to their own area and no one’s toes got stepped on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cupid's Hart

**Author's Note:**

> From an idea in [this](http://blackmakethme.tumblr.com/post/139034629388) post by [blackmakethme](http://blackmakethme.tumblr.com) and [fangirl-maketh-fics](http://fangirl-maketh-fics.tumblr.com). Thanks to you both for the inspiration.

There isn’t just _one_ Cupid. 

Eggsy doesn’t know how many others there are, but there are dozens in London alone. The Cupids Union long ago divided the city by postcode. Everyone kept to their own area and no one’s toes got stepped on. It’d taken him a long time to work his way up the ranks from Barking to Hackney and Islington to Westminster. W1S, to be precise. He still helped out his mates Jamal over by the Alexandra Estate in NW8 and Ryan in Whitechapel E1 when they needed a hand, though. Not much love was often in the air there, but when it was, it was all the more beautiful for its less fortunate surroundings.

In Eggsy’s neck of the woods these days, his main problem was making busy young professionals realize they needed to take time away from their careers to care for their hearts. Some never got the message. One man in particular. Every year around Valentine’s Day, despite it being his busy season, Eggsy stopped by to see if the man was open to the possibility.

A Cupid could do only so much. He couldn’t force love on someone who was not at least willing to entertain the notion. Some were beyond his help. Like this one. His mates told him long ago to just give up on the man. He was destined to be loveless. But Eggsy still tried. As the man passed his twenties, prime love-falling-in age so the Union’s statistics said, Eggsy still hung around outside his shop, Kingsman Tailors, 11 Savile Row. 

The man crossed paths with dozens of potentials over the course of a year, surely Eggsy could find someone for him to fall in love with. But as his thirties gave way to his forties and now his fifties, sadly Eggsy was beginning to think his mates might be right. Despite his name, Harry Hart might just not have one to be pierced by Eggsy’s arrow.

Harry turned 54 that spring, just as single this year as he was last year and the years before. Oh, the man had his assignations, even minor affairs and  _petits amours_. He wasn’t without human connection. He simply broke things off before they could become _messy_ , as he put it.

Early on in Eggsy’s interest, he came close. Only the man in Harry’s eye wasn’t attracted to men in that way. Eggsy almost immediately regretted having loosed his bow on the pair. He became Harry’s best friend instead, so it was all for the best. At least Harry wasn’t completely alone now. But the mistake made Eggsy more cautious with Harry’s affections.

The other time Eggsy missed wasn’t his fault. Harry was definitely attracted to this new man and the man was bisexual, so it was at least a possibility. Eggsy was just waiting for the right opportunity. Only before he could do anything about it they were both in the wrong place at the wrong time. Out of his jurisdiction. Despite that tailoring should’ve been a safe job, the other man had died while they were both abroad. Even if he hadn’t, Jamal later told Eggsy that the object of Harry’s affection already had been claimed by one of _his_ arrows for a lovely lady in the Estates. It never would’ve worked. Maybe Eggsy wasn’t as good a Cupid as he thought he was. Twice he’d failed Harry.

Eggsy leaned against the building scaffolding across the street from the tailors’ shop, waiting for Harry to appear. Sometimes it took days. He was frequently out of town. Buying fabric, Eggsy supposed, or some nonsense that posh tailors got up to. Cupids didn’t really have to worry about all that. They had glamour and so they appeared dressed however they wanted to appear. A lesson Eggsy learned painfully. Showing up otherwise naked, wearing a flowing white loincloth, with his wings all spread out for everyone to see kinda attracted the wrong sort of attention. One night spent in a jail cell for indecent exposure was quite enough thank you. 

Even knowing he had to wear clothes (or appear to anyway), Eggsy never much cared what clothes they were. Until he saw the shoes with wings on them. He bought up as many pairs in as many styles as he could find. The symbol of the wings he had to keep hidden behind his glamour made him smile.

He had to wait two days before finally catching sight of Harry walking up the street, umbrella in hand as always, despite the clear weather. There might be something to the whole human idea of clothing if it looked that good on someone, he thought. Harry’s suits always fit him like a second skin and today he was wearing one of Eggsy’s favorites. Soft grey and double breasted, nipped in at his slender waist, broad at his strong shoulders. All right, so sue him. He might’ve gone and spent a few weeks looking up what made clothing work and why it always looked so exceptional on Harry and not on everyone else. He never figured out the second bit, though he learned quite a lot about the basic whys and wherefores. It’s just everything always looked better when Harry wore it. Even the stupid umbrella. Anyone else carrying one on a sunny day looked like a prat. Harry though simply looked perfect.

He chided himself for being distracted. It was _the_  day. February 14th. His last shot of the year. He had a dozen more calls to make before midnight and really shouldn’t have been there wasting time on his pet project. But given that he was, he should at least be paying attention to the task. He was there to help Harry fall in love. Having long since exhausted the possibilities at Harry’s workplace, Eggsy should be looking for opportunities for a meet-cute with some passerby. A gust of breeze knocking some other gentleman’s paper into Harry, a dropped pen needing to be picked up, a casual nod hello otherwise ignored but today noticed. 

Only every possibility Eggsy considered wasn’t the _right_ one. Oh, they’d be fine for anyone else, but not for his Harry. He hadn’t put over thirty years into finding the exact right person to trust Harry’s heart to only to make the man settle for some banker or stock broker or even a handsome young barista eyeing the man through the coffee shop window. No, someone as perfect as Harry deserved someone perfect in return.

Of course once it was done, then Eggsy would be on his way. He wouldn’t be needing to take several days out of his busiest time of year just to devote to finding one person their true love. He’d never again have cause to hang out on Savile Row and watch one man walking down the street. It was time to find someone for Harry and quit dilly-dallying.

Eggsy started across the street holding his phone up (what, you think Cupids still use actual bows and arrows? Are you daft?) and pointing the camera at Harry He watched the screen for someone else crossing in range. This was the year he’d…

“Watch it, bruv!” he shouted at the car clipping too close to his heel. He missed his step on the curb and lost his balance, heading for a faceplant onto the pavement just like all the other people who paid too much attention to their phones and not enough to where they were walking. He stuck his arm out pushing himself up and looked back over his shoulder. He thought he saw Jamal rounding the corner, but this was _way_ out of his jurisdiction and they didn’t have a lunch date later, so why would…

“Excuse me. Are you all right?”

A hand settled on Eggsy’s elbow and he found himself being helped up. “Yeah,” he said, still looking back down the block. “I just thought I saw one of my mates…” He looked up at the man who’d helped him. “Oh! I… Um… Oh!" 

He was standing far too close to one Harry Hart. Almost close enough that they were touching chest to chest. Eggsy hadn’t ever realized before quite how tall Harry was. Or how solidly fit he was. Or what an intoxicating scent he had. And he definitely hadn’t noticed that Harry’s eyes were the exact color of a bead of amber catching the sunlight.

Harry blinked slowly, unable to look away from the young man’s face. "You have green eyes,” he said nonplussed.

Eggsy smiled fondly. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“It’s a lovely shade.” Harry began coming to his senses, realizing what a fool he sounded. “I mean only that we have a fabric which I think would quite bring out the color on you.”

“Oh.” Eggsy tried not to sound as crestfallen as he felt.

Harry found the disappointment in the young man’s appearance unbearable. “That wasn’t only what I meant, no. I’m sorry. I’m not usually this… What I _do_ mean is, would you care to have dinner with me tonight? No, wait. That’s too forward. Perhaps lunch? Too early. It’s not even half ten yet.”

“Maybe coffee?” Eggsy offered. “If you don’t have to go in to work right away?” Oh this was all sorts of wrong. If the Union got wind that he was trying to chat up one of his clients, he could lose his wings, be forced into a mortal body with a mortal lifespan.

“I don’t. I own the shop, as it were. So I may take coffee whenever I wish.”

Oh yes, there was a special punishment for Cupids who fell in love with their clients. But right then, Eggsy couldn’t be arsed to care. “I’d like that. I’m Eggsy.”

“Eggsy?” Harry tasted the unusual name on his tongue and smiled, finding he liked it. “I’m Harry.”

Eggsy reached out and tangled his fingers with Harry’s around the umbrella handle. “I know. I’ve been watching you,” he admitted, blushing.

“Hmm. I don’t know how I should feel about that.” Harry _did_ know how he should feel though. He should feel worried, on edge, cautious at the very least. In his business, which was definitely not tailoring, being watched was dangerous. “I think I don’t mind _you_ watching at all.”

  



End file.
